Red
by WriteWithFeeling
Summary: Susannah Brown is normal. And by that, she is completely normal. That is, until she starts having nightmares that leave her ending up in the streets of Gotham and seeing the different ways that she and others could die. To say that it is unpleasant is a complete understatement. But what if they aren't just nightmares? Susannah Brown may not be as normal as she thought after all...
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The explosion rocked the entire street and stones began to litter the street like rain. I sluggishly raised my arms over my head, trying in vain to protect myself, as small stones began to pelt my arms. My ears were ringing and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I began to run, my feet pounding, my ears ringing. I saw people as I ran… so many people, their faces filled with pain, anger, surprise and grief. Such utter grief...

Another explosion shook the street and I watched in mute horror as the building to the right of me began to collapse. I stopped and stared at it in fascinated terror. I tried desperately to start running again, but my feet stayed glued to the ground, like they were stuck in thick, wet sand. My mouth opened in a silent scream as the building came crashing towards me, debris, bodies, and bricks flying in slow motion through the still air.

I woke up. I was drenched in cold sweat and stood outside in the streets of Gotham. I shivered as I looked around myself. My breathing was harsh and my eyes were looking up at the very building that had been falling down onto me in the nightmare. I was crying as I stumbled backwards from the said building, wet tears falling onto my pajamas. I took a deep breath and told myself to calm down.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus my thoughts. This wasn't the first time that this had happened. In fact, it was the second time, and if it were even possible, this dream had been even more terrifying than the last. I turned away from the building and began walking back to my dingy, little apartment, trying desperately to stop my hands from shaking and trying to put one bare foot in front of the other.

* * *

Chapter 1

_1 Month Earlier_

"Yes, I understand," I said to the old lady on the opposite end of the line. "Thank you very much. I look forward to receiving your letter." I hung up the phone and a feeling of anticipation and excitement began to build up in my stomach. I had done it. I had just officially arranged renting my own apartment. In Gotham, believe it or not.

It hadn't really been my first choice, but everywhere else had simply been far too expensive to buy or rent, so Gotham it was. My mum poked her blonde head around the door of my bedroom, her blue eyes shining.

"So, sweetie?" she asked, "what did she say?"

This time I couldn't help the smile that blossomed on my face. "It's a done deal, mum. I officially have my own apartment to rent in 3 weeks, and she's sending me the keys in 1 week."

My mum, bless her, let out an excited squeal. She really acted like a 3 year old at times.

"Oh sweetheart! But that's wonderful!"

I raised my eyebrow at her statement. Did she really want me to go so soon? Mum caught my look and quickly backtracked.

"No, no, no, no, what I meant was that it's great that you're so excited about this. I mean," she gestured to herself, "I am too. But not because you're going away, but because you're becoming so mature..." A faraway look entered her eyes. "I remember when you were taking your first steps, and reading your first book…" she gave a loud sniff and I had to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. "Anyway," she said, brightening up, "Dinner to cook. It's spaghetti." She grinned at me, and walked away again, a small smile on her face.

As soon as I was sure that she was gone, I sighed and slumped on top of my bed, suddenly overcome with feelings of doubt, quashing my earlier elation. What was I doing leaving mum like this? I mean, she had dad and, of course my younger twin brothers, but dad was working all of the time and my brothers just weren't old enough to understand what was happening to mum yet.

You see, she has a brain tumor; that is, to make it extra clear, an inoperable cancerous brain tumor. She was diagnosed 6 months ago. And while she is getting regular radiotherapy, it's going to kill her. No one, not even the doctors, have no idea how long she's got left. It could be tonight, tomorrow, or one year from now, no one had any idea.

Ever since the news, dad buried himself in his work, more than usual anyway. I think that he's trying to pretend that it doesn't exist, and that if he doesn't see her it will magically go away, but the universe doesn't work like that. I scoffed as I got up from my bed. Why would it?

To be honest, I had already tried telling mum that I was going to stay here with her, but she wasn't going to hear of it. She said that you were only a teenager once, and that you had to make the most of those years before they were all gone. I sighed again. Just because she told me to get a life, didn't mean that I didn't feel guilty about it.

I walked over to my wall and gently brushed the back of my hand over the faded red pointe shoes that hung there. They were my mother's. She had been, when she was younger, a professional ballet dancer for the Gotham Ballet. A smile touched my lips, as I remembered when I had originally wanted to follow her career path. I had been young, talented, and naïve, and although I still did a weekly class, I no longer took it as seriously as I once did.

I had moved around a lot as a kid, and when I say move, I mean internationally. I had lived in around 5 different countries, including Germany, Russia, Italy, Australia, the Netherlands, and had finally ended up here, in the city of Blüdhaven. I guess you could say 6 countries if you really wanted, but I didn't really count where I was living now. To me, it was just another place to be explored and discovered while it lasted. I shot a final vacant look at the faded pointe shoes and walked out of my room.

I walked down the hallway, my eyes lingering on the photo of all five of us huddling into large winter jackets in front of St. Basil's cathedral. I smiled. The twins had been so small then.

Russia had been my favourite place, simply because the culture was so different to that of ours and because of the language. My mum was Russian, so technically I could already speak some Russian, but after living in Russia, I could now speak it fluently. I actually preferred Russian to English. I gave the photo one last, nostalgic glance before turning away.

I padded softly down the tiled hallway and chuckled as the twins raced passed me in like a whirlwind, jabbing hard foam swords at each other and crying 'insults' at the tops of the tiny voices. I sighed. Oh to be young, fresh and innocent again.

I walked quietly into the kitchen, my mum's soft humming only just audible over the hissing of the pressure cooker sitting on the stove. I winced as I looked at how decrepit the old gas stove had become. These last months hadn't been easy on the money, and the house, even though my dad was a professional builder, was beginning to show it through the stove, the oven and the roof that was beginning to leak.

I forced a cheerful smile onto my face, once again overcome with the feelings of doubt and guilt, before forcing them down. My mum was tough; she wouldn't stand the slightest bit of sympathy or pity.

"Hey mum," I said nonchalantly as possible.

Mum jumped, flicking her wooden stirring spoon filled with hot spaghetti sauce into the air. It went splat on the ground a metre away from where I was standing. I flushed guiltily. "Sorry," I muttered, as my mum turned around with an indignant expression on her face.

She pointed at the ground with said spoon, which was still dripping with spaghetti sauce. "Clean it up," she ordered. I did say that my mum was tough, didn't I?

* * *

_Present Time_

The room stank. And that was putting it mildly. Mold was growing on the not so white walls and a thick layer of dust covered the bench and the floors. And was that…? I gulped. I didn't want to think about what possible 'delicacies' could be on the rotten carpet. I wrinkled my nose as I stepped gingerly on the cold ground and looked for a place that might actually be clean enough to put my bag.

I scanned the small apartment and groaned. Scratch that, there was no way in hell that there was going to be a clean place in this dump. I carelessly dropped my heavy bag on the floor, no longer minding the disgusting crap that lay over the floor, and rubbed my hands together. It looked like I had a lot of work in front of me, and that didn't even include the bathroom.

I walked over the floor towards the bathroom, stirring and disturbing the dust that had probably sat there for years. I held my breath as I gently pushed the door open, expecting grimy walls and a slug filled shower.

I let out a breath in surprise as relatively clean walls and tiles greeted me instead of what I had expected. I shrugged, grateful for small wonders. I guess that the door being closed greatly helped the state of the small bathroom. I shut the door again, relieved that the bathroom, thank god, wasn't high on my growing list of priorities. At least I had a week before the semester started.

I tiptoed over to the small bedroom and carefully opened the peeling door, poking my head inside. The bed, bedside table and small wardrobe had all been covered in white sheets to protect and preserve what lay underneath them, but I have no idea whether the items were suitably preserved or not; if I had any luck, the covers on the bed would only be moth-eaten and not dissolve to dust in my hands.

I coughed as I breathed in a lungful of dust and hastily shut the door to the room. I was suddenly very glad that I had arrived early and was even gladder that the apartment was smaller than I thought it would be; at least it wouldn't take nearly as long to clean.

I stalked out of the apartment, feeling rather pissed off, which was quite a contrast from my earlier feelings of excitement. That old lady had totally conned me! I had asked for pictures of the place before I rented it, and she had obliged, but probably with pictures of what it had looked like 20 years ago. I scowled angrily. God, I was such a fool! She was probably having a private laugh at the stupid, naïve girl who decided to rent the worthless apartment. I twisted the keys in my hand, as I made my way down the 8 flights of stairs.

I took a deep, calming breath. I may as well walk off my anger, find the local supermarket for some serious cleaning products, and get to work, because there was nothing that I could do about it now.

* * *

An hour and a rather productive trip to the nearby store later, my arms were filled with shopping bags of cleaning products, food, air freshener and bed sheets. I dumped all of it onto the not-so-clean floor of the apartment, and rolled up my sleeves. The only thing that I had to do now was to decide where I wanted to start.

I ended up starting with the kitchen. Everything else could wait if need be, but the kitchen needed to be hygienic. After all, it was where you ate for goodness sake! After stinking out the apartment with the toxic fumes of bleach and oven cleaner, and wiping dead critters and dust into a dustpan, I deemed that I was finished with the kitchen. The granite bench now gleamed and the sink was actually usable. The oven could be used and the fridge actually looked like it could hold food.

I placed my hands on my hips as I looked around the small kitchen, a feeling of satisfaction growing in my chest. The feeling of satisfaction was lost as soon as I glanced at my watch. 16:30. I sighed.

Bedroom next.

* * *

**Hello fellow readers and authors! I'm back, but with a new style and a new piece of work. To people who are reading my other work, I will be updating in the very near future, the near future being a week, so do not despair! this is a different style to what I usually write, so I hope that it's alright. Any queries, questions, complaints, and compliments are all very welcome, just ****remember that if you have nothing nice to say (and by this I mean extremely rude) then please don't say it all.**

**Happy reading! **

**WriteWithFeeling xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

The small apartment was finally clean, and to be honest, I didn't think that I was going to make it. It had taken 3 full days of cleaning, dusting, and wiping and there were still stains in the carpet that I wasn't overly satisfied with, but I had made it.

The granite bench in the kitchen shone, the new curtains that I had bought yesterday hung in the window, a light breeze fluttering the fabric, and my laptop was sitting safely and dust-free on the small study desk in my room.

I flopped into the squishy armchair and sighed with satisfaction. A glass of champagne would finish this of very nicely. I chuckled. Champagne. As if I could afford something like that after all of the money that I had just spent on this crappy apartment. Now don't get me wrong, because I was no alcoholic. In fact, I was probably the lightest 18-year-old lightweight that has ever existed in the world of alcohol.

I sighed and fidgeted slightly with the new sterling silver bracelet that sat on my wrist. It was a goodbye present from my family. I still wasn't sure that I had made the right decision by leaving, but at the same time, I was glad to be on my own. Free to be me and make my own decisions… I was sure that I would end up getting used to the constant quiet in my little place eventually.

I contemplated what I should do for the remainder of the day. I could explore my new area, laze around the apartment, spend lots of time surfing the Internet, go shopping; the list was endless. I peered out my window. The sun was shining brightly and there were only a few puffy white clouds in the sky. I shrugged. Why not go outside and enjoy the day?

…

I had officially decided that my new area was a dump. Rubbish littered the streets, and graffiti was plastered in nearly every wall. Buildings were old, dangerous, and falling down and I passed several groups of young kids, laughing, jeering, and holding empty beer bottles. I walked slightly faster and shrunk into my jacket when I saw those groups, and made a mental note to never be out late in this part of town.

"Oi! Ginger!"

I breathed in sharply. That voice hadn't meant me, had it? I glanced around myself. There was no other carrot haired person around me. My breathing began to speed up and I began to walk more quickly down the remainder of the street.

"Oi! You listen to me when I'm talking to you," the voice yelled, and I heard the sound of running footsteps.

I wrenched my hoody up over my head and started sprinting down the street. I had no I idea where I was or how on earth I was going to get back to my apartment, but at the moment, there were more important things to worry about. Such as the crazy maniac running after me.

I stumbled over the uneven pathway, nearly losing my footing on the rough concrete. I ran behind the massive dumpster that was over flowing with rubbish at the end of the street, and hid at the back of it, trying to calm and quiet my breathing.

"Hey Jake!"

I flinched as I heard the rough voice echo down the street. "You got her?"

There was a deafly silent pause. "Nah, man. She must 'ave fl-fl-fl-flown away like a b-b-b-b-bird."

Laughing filled the street and I shrank further behind the dumpster. A group of delinquents. Fantastic.

"I knew that we shouldn't 'ave gotten you to do it. You always stuff everything up! And she was sooo beautiful… with that red hair. Just imagine what I could do with that hair…"

Cackling filled the street once more and I had to press my hand up to my mouth so that I wouldn't start crying. I had never felt so grateful for a dumpster in my entire life.

"You sure that she got away, man?" The same rough voice said.

"U-u-uh huh. Sh-sh-she fl-flew away like a b-b-birdy."

There was a cracking noise and a wail of pain. I winced

"Wha-what did you d-do that for?"

There was a hiss of what seemed like annoyance. "That's the second time you've failed. _Jake._ If you don't pull your act up, then we're all gonna get it, yeah? Now, for the last time, are you completely sure that she got away? You sure that she's not hiding 'round here somewhere? Like in that dumpster over there?"

I felt my heart stop as fear began to shake my body.

There was another long pause before the footsteps began towards the dumpster.

I jumped every time that I heard his foot hit the ground, and wanted to scream every time that the gravel grated against the concrete of the street. I was shaking so hard that my teeth were rattling together. I screwed my eyes shut, my heart hammering in my ribcage.

1 step. Another. And another…

"Hey there, little mouse," a voice whispered softly in my ear. I screamed before instinctively punching him in the face. I stumbled to my feet as my attacker tripped slightly.

"You little bitch," he said, grinning crazily at me. "I didn't think that you would be capable of such a thing."

He lunged, reaching for my arm, but I had already started running, and he missed. My arms flailed wildly as I tried to retain my balance. I screamed again, hoping in vain that somebody would hear, and somebody would come. My feet pounded the ground in front of me as I turned the corner onto the next dark street. I leaned against the brick wall of the rickety old building for support, gasping for breath.

My thoughts were frantic, I had to do something and defend myself. Not sit here like a useless wimp. I took the deepest breath that I could make in my hysterical state and pulled myself together. It was time to kick some ass. Susannah Brown style.

I slid down to my hands and knees, my hands running blindly over the ground. It was already dark and the little alley that I had thrown myself into was pitch black.

There had to be some sort of weapon down here, I thought. Broken glass, rubble or something…

I felt it before I found it. The top half of a broken bottle dug into the palm of my hand, leaving a horrible burning and a trail of blood making its way down my wrist. But I grasped like it was my lifeline.

There was a light footstep, alerting me to another presence. I instantly spun around, raising the broken glass bottle with both hands protectively in front of me.

"Don't you dare come any closer," I warned, my voice wavering slightly. "Or you'll wish you hadn't."

There was a light laugh. "Indeed."

The voice was male.

"The _others_ have been taken care of."

"What others?" I trilled.

I saw a slight shrugging movement in the shadows. "The others that tried to… Well, lets not talk about that. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that you're safe."

My hands shook harder. It was safe to say that I didn't believe him one bit.

'I don't know you. How can I trust you," I whispered.

The figure stepped into the faint light of the moon. "Because I'm one of the good guys. You can trust me."  
I shook my head violently. "No, I can't." I suddenly dropped the glass, and gave a light yelp as it hit the ground. I flicked my head back to the figure. Although he was standing in the light, I still couldn't see his face. All of my instincts were telling me to run as far away as possible, but I was glued to the spot.

The figure stepped forward, but was still slightly concealed in the gloom.

"Yes, you can," he repeated.

I stepped back, relieved that I my fear had finally ebbed enough to allow me to move. Before he could say anything else or come any closer, I scooted.

I have certainly made better decisions. I mean, after all, I was in an unfamiliar city, in the dark no less, where thugs, rapists and who knows what else roamed the streets.

Yep, I think that pretty much confirms that my decision to run away was completely and utterly shit.

…

I was shivering with cold, rain, and was seriously regretting my decision earlier on. I may not have trusted that weird figure with a deep voice, but I could have at least asked for directions. I cursed my own stupidity.

I wandered slowly down the street, trying to recognise where I was. At least this part of the city seemed somewhat friendlier. I mean, there was still graffiti and other crap on the walls, and rubbish was scattered everywhere, but it was a residential area, making it feel that tiny bit more welcome.

I sighed and wrapped my arms around myself as I looked at the surrounding apartments. It was time to ask for directions. How embarrassing. I could not ask, but that would be asking for a night of cold, rain, and hunger, which would suck.

I walked slowly up the path to the nearest apartment block that I saw and randomly hit a bell. A voice crackled over the speaker.

"What can I do for you?"

The voice was a woman's.

"Uh, I'm really sorry to bother you, but I'm lost and was wondering if you could help me with directions?"

There was a pause and some background noise. Apparently, they were discussing whether they should let me up or not.

A different voice answered. "I'll be down in a sec." The intercom switched off and I was left standing awkwardly on the stairs, trembling with cold and dripping with rain.

I snapped my head towards the crumbling door as the familiar sound of a key turning in a lock greeted my ears.

A girl around my age or older with blonde hair was standing opposite me. She had an expression of blankness on her face, but the curiosity and wariness in her eyes was unhidden.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she asked sharply. I took a breath to answer, but she interrupted me. "And if you are just a time waster, then you'd better scat. _Now._ Before you wish that you had never been born."

I just stared at her. Was this how all residents of Gotham treated strangers turning up late at night? Probably. I shrunk back.

"I was actually j-j-just wondering if you c-c-could give me some directions?" I stuttered my way through the sentence, my teeth chattering.

The girl's face softened slightly. But only slightly. "Where to?"

I gave her my address and she gave me a weird look. "How did you end up so far from there? It'll take you at least two hours to walk back."

I almost groaned. Two hours? I was suddenly hit with a sudden thought.

"What's the t-t-time?" I asked. Blondie glanced at her watch.

"22:30," she said, raising an eyebrow. "You do know that Gotham isn't the best city to be around during the night?"

I looked at the ground and muttered, "I already got that, thanks."

Blondie paused, looked at me, and sighed to herself. "I don't normally do this, so I hope that you're grateful, but if you need, you can stay here for the night."

I took a breath to say thanks, but she held up her hands. "There's a spare bed that you could probably sleep on. But before you even step inside, there is one thing that we need to make clear. Any funny business, and you will wish that you had never step foot in this house."

I swallowed and nodded as she opened the door for me.

"I'm Artemis, by the way, and you are?"

"Uh, Susannah."

She slammed the door behind me, and I jumped. She smirked back.

"Just remember, any funny business..." She left the sentence unfinished.

What on earth was I getting myself into?

…

The shadows loomed threateningly around me and I hugged my arms around my body. Evil laughter was echoing off the walls and I put my hands over my ears in a desperate attempt to stop the dreadful sound. Tears were streaming down my face, but I didn't notice.

"You thought that you could escape me…" a voice hissed. "But you will never escape. _Never._"

I screamed as hands touched me, grasping my shoulders and trailing down my arms.

"Susannah!" I faintly became aware of someone saying my name. "Susannah! You have to wake up!"

I woke up.

* * *

**Hey everyone! Thanks to those that have already reviewed, followed, and favourited. I feel very honoured! :)**  
**Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. There will be another one soon.**  
**Happy reading!  
WriteWithFeeling xx**


	3. Chapter 3

I was freezing. The bed covers were drenched with sweat and I was trembling. But with fear or cold, I cannot say. The remnants of the 'dream' were still flashing through my mind, like a movie.

I felt someone lay a hand on my arm and I jumped suddenly, my eyes turning to the person in question.

"Sorry," I muttered to Artemis. "This doesn't usually happen."  
She looked at me carefully. "It's okay. It happens to all of us, but I wish that you had told me that you suffer from nightmares." She smiled slightly. "Then I might have been prepared."

"Sorry," I repeated quietly.  
Artemis got off my bed and stretched. "Don't sweat it." She looked at me curiously. "What did you dream about anyway? I mean, screaming doesn't exactly equal happy."

I sighed and turned away from her, hugging my knees to my chest. "To be honest, I would rather not talk about it."

She shrugged. "Whatever. I'm going to back to sleep."

And she did just that.

Oh, how I envied her.

* * *

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night and henceforth, woke up in a bad mood the next morning. Change that to a very bad mood.

My hand still ached from where the broken glass had cut it and I was bone tired.

I yawned and wrenched the covers from my body and stretched. My whole body burned from last night's ordeal and I was pretty sure that I looked like a complete mess. I glanced over at the bed beside me and saw that Artemis was still sleeping. Lucky her.

I turned the other way, looking at the faded Alice in Wonderland picture that hung on the wall. The sun-drenched colours looked back at me miserably, reminding me of the depressing watercolour paintings that hung in the living room back at my real home in Blüdhaven. For some reason, my mum really like those washed out paintings of old buildings. Although my younger twins and I had protested against them, she didn't budge, saying that the paintings were family heirlooms and that she would be damned if she ever got rid of them. So we kept them, and they were still in the same place, on the same wall as they had been for all of those years.

I shifted again, feeling horribly uncomfortable in the foreign bed. In the end, I just gave up and pulled the covers from my body. Artemis, or rather her mother Paula, had been kind enough to lend me some baggy clothes for the night. When I had first seen Paula, I felt kind of sorry for her, but then felt guilty for feeling sorry. That might be a weird combination of feelings, but I knew how much people with disabilities hated having sympathy. They were just like any other human, after all.

I smiled lightly as a memory suddenly came to mind. My best friend, Cynthia, is deaf and she absolutely hated being given any special treatment. She would literally kick someone's ass as soon as the slightest expression of pity or sympathy was evident on a person's face. It was at those times, that I was grateful that I was the only one that could understand ASL, because some of the stuff that she would sign was so dirty that it would make a bad ass criminal cower in fear and disgust.

I met Cynthia when I was doing work experience at a special school for kids with disabilities. I had been taking ASL classes outside of school, and my mum had decided that it would be a good idea to refine and test my skills, so I signed up to do some volunteer work after school. On my first day of volunteer work, I saw her sitting by herself out in the garden, scowling at some colourful flowers. I had walked out to her, intending to ask if she wanted anything, and as soon as she saw me, she started ranting. To this day, I have never seen or hear another person repeat what she signed to me. And through her continuous use of the words like shitheads, bastards, and fucking dickheads, a friendship was born and kept.

And I have never had a better, more blunt, and caring friend.

I sighed, thinking that I should probably make a Skype call with her sometime soon, and pushed the stifling covers off of my body. I sat up slowly and put my head in my hands, yawning widely. I slowly got up and padded softly to the bathroom. May as well see what the damage is, I thought miserably to myself. I locked the bathroom door and delayed looking in the mirror for as long as possible before I knew I couldn't avoid it anymore.

My short, carrot-coloured hair was like a bird's nest; curls were sticking out everywhere and my green eyes were surrounded by dark shadows, showing my tiredness. My skin was paler than usual and my freckles looked especially dark. Bruises covered my arms and my knees, and my hand was cut up, but other than that, I was all right. I almost smiled. The damaged was nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be. Well, physically at least anyway.

I washed my face roughly, grabbed my clothes that had been hung up in the shower last night to dry, and pulled them on. I tamed my hair to the best of my ability, which wasn't very much, and left the cramped bathroom.

The smell of cooking eggs greeted my nose and I felt my stomach grumble as I realized that I hadn't eaten properly in around 18 hours. I wandered over to the kitchen, smiling at the scene of Artemis and her mother together in the kitchen. I must have been longer in the bathroom than I originally thought.

Artemis looked up at me suddenly, as she placed a plate of eggs on the table.

"Breakfast is ready, if you want any," she said shortly.

I nodded absently. "Thanks."

"I can also give you a ride if you need one."  
I looked up in surprise at that comment. Artemis didn't seem like the person who would do things like that.

"Susannah, if I were you, I would take this chance," Paula mock whispered to me, her eyes sparkling. "Artemis doesn't often do that. In fact, she never does that."

Artemis rolled her eyes in response. "Whatever," she muttered. She looked back up at me, a question in her eyes.

I nodded quickly in reply. I wasn't going to pass this opportunity up.

* * *

"So. How'd you end up so far from your apartment?" Artemis asked casually, but I could hear the undertones of curiosity and wariness in her tone. We were driving through the streets of Gotham now, not far from my apartment.

I shrugged, not wanting to remember the real reason why. "Got lost in my thoughts I guess."

Artemis snorted. "That was the worst excuse I've ever heard. What's the real reason." It wasn't a question, but required an answer that left no room for bullshit.

I sighed and looked out of the window at the sprawling city streets.

"Got chased by a bunch of good for nothing dickheads." It had been a bit more than that, but I didn't feel like going into more detail than I had to.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "Lucky for me, some guy showed up, or otherwise…" I don't have to finish the sentence to get the message across.

"Did you see his face?"

I turned to face Artemis slowly, wondering why she would ask a question like that.

"No, he stayed in the shadows, but there was this weird laugh when he showed up. It was damn creepy." I shivered as the memory of the laugh rang through my mind.

Artemis coughed and I raised my eyebrows at her.

"Something to say?" I asked.

She shook her head and kept her eyes on the road, but she couldn't hide the small smirk on her face.

"You should book yourself into self defense classes," Artemis said abruptly. "Gotham is a dangerous city and one in which you don't want to be around in at night. I would be careful if I were you. If you like, I can give you the number to a good group that I know about. They practice once a week on a Thursday afternoon from 4-6pm in the gym at the University. It's free."

"Okay," I said slowly. "I'll look into it." Today was a Thursday. Oh dear.  
We passed the local and familiar looking shopping centre.

"You should," she replied shortly.

We spent the next five minutes in silence, until she pulled up outside of my apartment block. Artemis craned her neck slightly to see the crumbling building.

"Nice place you got yourself there."  
"I know," I muttered, "but it's all I have, so I deal with it."

I sighed and opened up the car door, but didn't get out of the car.

"Thanks," I said quietly. "For taking me in last night and driving me here this morning."

Artemis just shrugged. "No problem," she said. "But my mum was right. I don't often do this; in fact I never do this. Especially not for someone that I just met. But I saw something in you that reminds me of me. I can't place my finger on it, but there is something there." She suddenly pulled out her notepad and scrawled her number on it. "This here, is my mobile number. If you ever get caught out in the streets of Gotham, just call, and I'll most likely come. But no promises, because promises are stupid and unreliable. Plus, I spend a lot of time in Palo Alto. So, see you around I guess."

I rolled the piece of paper in my hand as I got out of the car and closed the door. I stood there awkwardly for a moment before finally saying, "Bye and thanks again."

Artemis only nodded before driving off, leaving me standing on the curb and lots to think about.

I pulled out my keys, walked slowly up the short path to the apartment building and unlocked the door. Unfortunately for me, my small apartment building was on the top floor and there was no elevator. Oh well. At least I would get fit walking up and down all of these stairs every day.

I started trudging up with the stairs.

* * *

I glanced at my watch anxiously. It was 15:45. I was standing outside awkwardly outside the University that I would be attending at the start of next week, trying to look like I was supposed to be there. I rolled on my heels, a sign of nervousness and looked out at the street. Maybe I should just go home. After all, it looked like no one was showing up anyway, but something made me stay.

Sure enough, approximately two minutes later, a car drove up in front of the University. I nearly started with disbelief. That was Artemis's car! I suddenly felt suspicious. What was she doing here? Checking up on me? She had better not be doing that.

A red haired man shut the passenger door with a slam and waved to Artemis, shaking me from my thoughts of stalking. She suddenly leant over the passenger seat and then cast an amused glance up at me, before raising a hand in farewell, before leaving. I sent her a baffled look in return.

What just happened? Whatever. I would worry about it later. The red head jogged up the steps.

"Hey!"

I looked up in surprise.

"You here for the class?"

I nodded before following him to my almost certain demise into the University.

Yeah. I'm not really a people person and am most definitely not a person that enters into situations without knowing what was going to be done beforehand. Such as taking spontaneous self defense classes.

"So," red head said, "the name's West. _Wally_ West." What? Did he think he was super cool or something?

"Brown," I muttered, as we turned another corner, into yet another corridor. He gave me a weird look.

"Brown? Is that seriously your first name?"

I rolled my eyes. "Names have to be earned. So, to you, it's Brown."

"I don't even get a hint at what the first letter could be?" he almost whined.

"No," I said. I changed the subject. "So, how long have you been doing these classes?"

"For a while actually. In fact, I used to be way into self-defense and stuff when I was younger, so these classes just keep my reflexes and strength up. You ever done self-defense before?"

I shook my head. "First time."

"Cool. So what made you wanna join self defense? There has to be some sort of inspiration or something? Maybe a parent, sibling?"

I scowled, shrugged, and looked down at the ground. He was trying to accidentally make me slip my name through some background story. Bastard.

We entered the gym, in which a large, springy gym mat had covered the floor. A loan figure was heaving some sticks onto one of the corners of the mat.

"Hey, Dick!" Wally waved excitedly like a kid, across the room. I looked at Wally incredulously. Did he just call that guy Dick?

Dick (I still wasn't sure that that was his real name) raised his hand in greeting.

"Hey Wally. Would you mind giving me a hand over here?"

Wally grinned. "You getting weak and sluggish over there, old man?"

Dick chuckled. "You wish."

I stood uncomfortably in the corner of the gym, feeling like I was intruding.

* * *

His work finished, Dick looked over at the small, red headed girl standing in the corner of the gym. He looked at Wally quizzically.

"Who's she?"

Wally shrugged. "Her name's Brown. Or rather, her last name is Brown. She said that her actual name has to be earned. Ridiculous if you ask me. I mean, who would not want to give their name to me?"

Dick chuckled in response. "I'm sure she has her reasons." He looked back at the girl, who was clearly trying to make herself invisible. She looked familiar for some reason. Something about her figure…

There was a silence between the two friends for a moment.

"So, how's Bruce?"

"He's good. I think." He passed a look to Wally. "With Bruce you can never be too sure."

Wally scoffed. "That's for sure." He paused. "Anyway, how's your 'other work' going?"

Dick sighed lightly. "It's been hard, especially for the last couple of weeks. The crime rate has been rising like crazy and we have no reason why. What's more, I've been interrogating some people in the underworld, but no one's heard or seen anything. It's beginning to get weird."

He looked back over at the red head girl. Some more people had entered the gym now. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but he couldn't place it.

"Are you sure that we haven't seen Brown before?"

Wally shook his head. "Nope," he said, making a popping sound on the 'p'. "But Artemis seemed to know her."

That piqued Dick's interest. "Did she?"

"Yeah."  
"Interesting. Maybe an old school friend?"

Wally just shrugged. "Maybe."

Interesting indeed, because Artemis wasn't one to make friends. Not to mention, did that mean that Brown knew about their line of work outside of work?

Before it was only a matter of interest as to whether Dick should get to know Brown or not, but now, there was no question about it. He had to get to know her and see where she stood in this entire situation. How much did she know?

* * *

**Hey there readers! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, because I enjoyed writing it! **

**Happy reading! :)**

**WriteWithFeeling xx**


	4. Chapter 4

There were several others here now, thank god, and I began to feel less awkward in the large gym. Wally was still down on the other side of the gym with Dick (such an unfortunate name), who happened to be the instructor.

Lisa, one of the girls whom I had just met who I suspected to be a cheerleader, told me that Dick was one of the best self-defense teachers in Gotham, but then and again, the way that she spoke about Dick suggested a 'story' that I didn't want to get involved in. I would see for myself whether he was good or not; I didn't need some bimbo telling me what I could find out for myself.

"So, Brown," Lisa hesitated slightly over my 'name'.

I gave a tight smile. "Yeah?"

"Why won't you tell me your name? I won't tell anybody! Honest," she burst out dramatically, crossing her palm over her chest. Good grief. Who did she think she was? Couldn't she leave a moody girl in peace?

"Sorry, but no."

She looked at me with big puppy eyes and I turned my head away in annoyance.

"Remind me how old you are again?" I finally snapped.

Lisa's expression turned ugly. "Fine, don't tell me your name," she said tight-lipped, "but let me warn you, you don't want to make an enemy out of me."

I scoffed. "Yeah? And what are you going to do? Smack me with your pom poms? Scary."

Her expression turned from ugly to outraged and I knew that I had hit the jackpot. She was a cheerleader after all.

Before she could retort back, however, Dick called us all over to the middle of the mat. During my 'discussion' with Lisa, more people had shown up, raising the number of the class to around 20. Needless to say, most of them were girls. Correction. Starry-eyed and pathetically in love girls. I scowled to the gym mat and wondered how many people here were there to look at the teacher or actually learn how to do self-defense.

"So, welcome back everybody. I hope that you all had a good week. As you can probably see, we have a new student with us this week."

Dick looked at me pointedly and I suddenly realized that I was supposed to say my name.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, I'm Brown. And before you ask, no, that is not my first name."

There were a few chuckles throughout the group, and I saw Lisa whispering in the ear of another girl and giggling. I flushed.

'Alright Brown, I hope that you get something out of this lesson once everyone shuts up." Dick cast a sharp look at Lisa and Giggles, who fell quickly silent. "Okay. We'll start off with warming up, so 5 laps around the gym please, and no cutting corners. If I see any of you cutting corners, it'll be extra laps. Alright, get going."

People started walking, and then running around the large gym, myself included. I loved running. It had in fact, for the last several years, brought me stress relief from school. There was something that was incredibly relaxing about the even breaths and the constant pounding of feet, whether it be on tarmac or dirt.

"So, Brown, eh?" a man suddenly said to me, shaking me out of my thoughts.

"Uh, yeah," I said, concentrating on the ground in front of me, my arms pumping at my sides.

"I'm Dan. I would shake your hand right now, but I don't know how well that that would work out."

I chuckled. "It may not work out too well."

Dan laughed lightly in response. We were coming up on the second lap now. "So have you done self-defense before?"

I shook my head. "No. First time."

"Good luck. You might need it."

I gave him a curious look. "Why would I need luck? I thought that this was just a casual class?"

"Well, to some extent, it is casual. But Dick is no slacker, and he makes us work hard. Personally, I don't mind, because it'll prepare me better for what's out on the streets of Gotham and for the rest of the world." He paused. "So you here to stay?"

"Well, in Gotham, yeah, but at this class? I'm not so sure yet."

"Hey! Brown! Dan! No talking while doing laps!"

Dan shot me an amused look and kept jogging and I began to wonder just how harsh a teacher Dick actually was.

* * *

It turned out that he was a pretty harsh teacher, with not much room for sympathy. The bruises, which I had earned yesterday, were becoming even more bruised and my cut hand, much to my disgust, had opened up again. I kept wiping it on my loose leggings with not much success. Oh well, I thought to myself, at least my pants are black. I could only pray that no one noticed.

I looked at the clock on the gym wall; I had been asked to remove my wristwatch because of safety. I was only an hour into this class and I ached all over. We had been made to do push ups, sit ups, and an array of other exercises which I don't really want to mention, and we were only getting on to actual self-defense now. I mean, I got where Dick was coming from. In order to execute moves properly and to do them to the best of your ability, you actually have to have the strength to do the movement. Otherwise, it's just completely pointless and a waste of time. Not to mention that you could do yourself serious injury

Dick began to hand each of us one of the longs sticks that he had gotten out at the beginning of the lesson, and Emma, a girl I actually got along with whispered to me, "This is the best part!"

I, on the other hand, was nowhere near as sure. A stick would mean using my hands, which would mean getting blood on the stick, which would then lead to getting asked as to why, where, when, and how I ended up with a cut on my hand, which would finally lead to embarrassment.

You may ask why I am making such a big deal as to why I refuse to tell anyone about this cut, but I promise you, I have a good reason.

I grew up in a rough neighborhood, and in an even rougher school, where you learn that if you show weakness, you are literally food for the people with more influence and power. I knew that it was stupid, but it was what I knew.

I came up with the perfect excuse; bathroom break. I would wipe away the blood and stay in the bathroom until the bleeding stopped. I quickly asked Emma where the bathroom was and asked if she could tell Dick where I was, in case he asked. I dashed off in the direction that she had pointed me, and to my utter relief, stumbled to the bathroom block without getting lost. I opened the door and sank down behind it, relieved at finally getting some peace and quiet.

There were several sinks and I washed my hand under the water of one, watching as the water dripping into the sink turned red. I sighed and grabbed a wad of paper towel, pressing it gently against my hand. Geez, I was so ridiculous. Freaking out over a bloody cut on my hand. There are so many bad things happening to people in the world right now, and I am worrying over a small cut on my hand. Fair enough, it wasn't actually that small and it was bleeding surprisingly a lot, but still.

* * *

Dick, who had been informed of Brown's temporary absence, continued on with the class. He had been teaching the class how to work with a baton for several weeks now, and so far, it had been rather successful. For self-defense, Dick knew that it was important to learn how to fight properly with a weapon and how to use that weapon as efficiently as possible. Dick knew from experience that so many people would find something to defend them with, but then they would have no idea how to use it. At first, it seemed simple enough. Just stand, and whack, but it was a lot harder than that.

For some reason, his thoughts flickered to the girl he had encountered last night in the alley. She had picked up broken, glass bottle, and had just stood there, unable to move, and not knowing what to do next. That was why he was teaching these classes, so that he could teach people the basics and intricacies of defense, and what's more, to teach people to be confident about defense, because once the fear sets in, it never lets you leave from its grip.

His eyes glanced unconsciously towards the clock and he realized that it had already been ten minutes since Brown had left to go to the bathroom. He frowned slightly. She may have bunked, which wouldn't have surprised him, but if she hadn't, it was his duty to see if she was all right.

"Hey, Wally," he said quietly to his friend. "I'm just going to go and check the new member of our class that's gone AWOL. Will you take over for me? I won't be gone for long."  
Wally nodded. "Sure dude."

Dick left the gym in direction for the bathrooms.

* * *

I sat against the sinks, my eyes closed in exhaustion and my muscles aching. For some reason, I was suddenly so incredibly tired and I wondered if last nights events had caught up with me at last. It wouldn't really surprise me. I knew that I should probably get up, but I didn't want to. Even though it was a disgusting and dirty bathroom floor.

I found myself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Dick turned to the girl's bathroom block and wondered if Brown was still there. He had to admit, that her not telling anyone her actual name was mystifying, but like he had told Wally earlier, he was sure that she had her reasons. He sighed and pushed the door to the girl's block open.

He expected no one to be there, so seeing the girl sitting on the ground, with her eyes closed came as a bit of a shock.

He stepped quickly over to Brown, and crouched beside her, giving her a slight shake. To his utter relief, she awoke with a start, her eyes confused and sluggish, before becoming indignant.

"What do you want," she muttered, her words slightly slurred. Dick frowned. She had fallen asleep, and was slurring her words, but because of what? Fatigue was a definite possibility. After all, he didn't know the nature of her home life. But the true answer came to him a second later as he saw the blood soaked paper towels lying in her lap. Blood loss. Not extreme, but she had obviously lost enough to warrant tiredness and dizziness. He looked slightly closer. It was jagged. Most likely glass had cut it.

"I can take care of myself, you know?" she murmured. "Go back to your class."

She staggered to her feet, leaning heavily against the sink cupboard, and glared at Dick, her eyes now a lot clearer. "I only fell asleep. It's not some massive emergency."

Dick sighed mentally. He gestured to her hand. "That needs to be treated properly."

"Yeah, and people in countries in Africa are starving to death, which is a lot more serious. I can handle myself, thank you very much."  
She wiped her hand roughly on her blood crusted leggings and walked out of the bathroom. Right, if she wanted to play it stubborn, then he would as well.

"You are not entering that gym again until a deal is made. Either you get me to look at it, or I drive you to the hospital and a doctor looks at it."

She stopped walking.

* * *

I weighed my options. Let Dick look at it, which would be uncomfortable with a guy whom I knew nothing about or go to the hospital with said guy, where a doctor would look at it. Not only would that cost me more money, it would be a waste of resources. I made my decision. After all, my watch was still in that gym, and there was no way that I was walking away from this University without it.

"Fine," I sighed. "You can look at it. But I promise you, that it is nowhere near as bad as it looks. You're just making a mountain out of a molehill."

I marched towards him, trying to press down the wave of embarrassment, and stuck out my hand. I hated relying on others. I ignored the strange combination of softness and hardness of his hands as they examined my own.

"How'd you get it?" he asked conversationally.

"I dropped a glass bottle at home, and wasn't watching when I picked up the wrong end," I lied sweetly. To cover it up better, I added a fake laugh. "I am just really clumsy like that."

But it was clear that Dick wasn't listening to my pointless babble. Instead, he was fingering the sleeve of my three quarter t-shirt. I felt a wave of fear. If he lifted my sleeve up it would reveal the…

"Handprints," Dick said softly. Damn it. He looked at me, and I noticed for the first time that night how penetratingly clear his eyes were. It was decidedly annoying. "I'm guessing that I don't need to ask how you got those." It was statement, not a question.

Well, shit.

* * *

**Hey Folks! I hoped that you enjoyed that chapter and if you have any questions, concerns, corrections, or just general things to say, then I welcome all of it!**

**Happy reading and happy holidays!**

**WriteWithFeeling xx**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was suddenly so clear that Dick wondered why he hadn't seen it before. This was the same girl that he ran into the alleyway last night. He kept his expression blank and suppressed the feelings of sympathy and anger that rose up inside him.

'Brown', as she had called herself, was still staring defiantly at him, as though she was daring him to say something.

Dick frowned as he looked briefly into her eyes. They were glazed.

He sighed lightly to himself and let her sleeve go.

"Did he do anything else?"

Brown finally turned her gaze away from him and looked at the floor. "No," she whispered. The defiance and indignation seemed to have seeped right out of her. Dick sighed in relief. The thought that something else may have happened to this girl on his watch would have been… devastating. Dick suddenly felt disgusted at himself. Here he was worrying about himself and his reputation, while the girl standing in front of him had been a near victim of rape.

"Do you have any bruises anywhere else?"

Brown hesitated slightly, as though she was contemplating to tell him the truth or not. "I have a couple more. But they're nothing."

Why was this girl so bloody stubborn? Dick crossed his arms. "Where?"

"As if I'd want to tell you," she muttered. She turned to walk away back to the gym, but Dick grabbed at her arm, stopping her.

"Where?" he repeated. Brown tried to shake him off.

"Nowhere. Now are you going to let me leave? I upheld my end of the deal, which was to let you look at my hand, which you did." She twisted out of his grip and Dick let her. She had upheld her end of the deal after all.

…

I walked as quickly as I could down the hallway back towards the gym. Who did he think he was? He was no doctor; therefore he had no right to ask me those questions. Admittedly, the bruises on my ribs hurt more than I cared to realise, but that wasn't any of his business. I stalked back into the gym and headed over to where I had placed my watch. I was so leaving and there was nothing that Dick could do to stop me. I fastened my watch firmly onto my wrist and walked out of the gym, ignoring the stares of the others in the gym.

I pulled on my jacket and kept my head down as I followed the winding hallways to exit the university. The cool night air was a relief from the stifling heat of the gym and I welcomed it. It was still just light in the city of the Gotham, something which reassured me. I turned away from the university glad to be leaving it behind until Monday and began making my way down the street.

"Don't you have a car or something that would save you walking down these streets?"

My body tensed as I heard Dick's footsteps from behind me.

"Piss off," I muttered. I felt his hand on my shoulder and I flinched away from it. "Can't you get a simple message?" I said forcefully, although my vision swam before my eyes. "I'm fine, so please leave me alone."

"At least let me drive you. These streets are dangerous at night, as you have already found out."

I groaned. Good grief, he was stubborn. Why couldn't he just let it go? But then and again, my apartment was some way away, and a car drive would be welcome. Before I knew it, I had accepted his offer.

The inside of Dick's car was warm, but not stifling like the gym had been. It was comfortable and it made me feel drowsy all over again. I was suddenly fighting to keep my eyes open. Maybe a trip to the hospital wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Hey," a voice said sharply. I snapped to attention.

"What?" I was distantly aware that the word was slightly slurred.

"You have to stay awake. And change of plan, I'm taking you to the hospital. I'm sure that you've got a concussion, not to mention that that cut of yours needs stitches."  
"You can't do that," I protested weakly. "We agreed that you would drive me home."

"I didn't agree to drive you home. All I said was that I would drive you. I didn't specify the place."

I closed my eyes, my head hurting. "Whatever," I muttered. I decided that perhaps the hospital was a good idea after all.

…

Dick glanced to Brown, taking his eyes off the road. He noticed that her eyes had once again closed. He snapped his fingers under her nose and she fluttered her eyelids.

"What?"

Dick was suddenly at a loss as to what to say. "What's your name? Your real name." Conversation was good. It would keep her aware. She turned to face him and sighed.

"I guess, seeing as you're going to find out anyway, I'll tell you. It's Susannah. Susannah Brown." She turned to look at him curiously. "Surely your name isn't just Dick. Because if it was, that would be seriously unfortunate."

Dick chuckled. "It's actually Richard. But, I was nicknamed Dick as a child, and I guess that it just stuck."

"Richard, huh? You got a last name then?"

Dick sighed. He had hoped that in her confused brain, she wouldn't ask that question. Not many people knew Dick, but a lot of people knew Richard Grayson.

Dick deliberately changed the subject. "So where are you from?"

"All over. I moved around a lot as a child…" Susannah said softly. She yawned and leaned against the passenger seat, looking out at the passing buildings.

"So did I," Dick said quietly. He was silent for a moment, suddenly hit with memories from when he was younger. He shook himself abruptly out of the painful reminders of his childhood and decided to focus on something else instead. "How do you know Artemis?"

"Huh?" Susannah blinked blearily up at him.

"Artemis?" he said, raising her eyebrows slightly in question.

"Oh, right. That's a funny story actually…" A funny look came over Susannah's face. "You know, I can't really remember. I'm pretty sure that I met her last night, but I can't be sure."

Dick quenched the desire to keep questioning her. He had to know what she knew about Artemis and possibly everyone else. He was sure that Artemis had told no one about her secret identity, but then and again, Artemis wasn't really one to open up about such things.

He made a left turn down to the emergency department in Gotham and kept a blank face as he passed drunks waving bottles and scantily dressed women. It was at times like this that he was supremely glad that he was Nightwing. Sometimes he wished that he had time to himself, time to stop worrying about others and have a day to himself, but as he soon as those feelings would rise, he would push them back down into the depths of his mind. After all, he glanced over at the now sleeping girl in the passenger seat, if it hadn't been for Nightwing, Susannah Brown may not even be alive today.

Wait, sleeping? Dick snapped his fingers under Susannah's nose, but this time, there was no response.

"Shit! Susannah," he slapped her cheeks lightly, still managing to keep the car travelling in a straight line. It was less than 200m to the hospital now. He placed his hand in one of hers. "Susannah, if you can hear me, I want you to squeeze my hand."

…

Blackness surrounded me like a thick warm blanket. It was so nice and warm, like I was in a lovely, relaxing bath. I hadn't had a bath in years, and vaguely decided that I should have one some time. I wanted to sit in the warm blackness forever, but some annoying voice kept pulling me back up.

"Susannah…" Oh yeah. That was my name, wasn't it? "Squeeze my hand." Why on earth would I want to do that? It was that voice that was being so irritating after all. The voice repeated the same sentence and I grudgingly gave in. Anything for some peace and quiet right?"

I felt hands touching me, and heard the unclear sounds of urgent talking around me. Someone rather brutally shone a light in my eyes, and I blinked sluggishly, trying to make my eyes go back to the way that they were before the rude light had shone in them. I didn't have that much success.

…

Dick sat in the waiting room patiently, reading one of the crappy and out of date magazines that the hospital supplied. He couldn't believe that he was still here. Most of the time, he would if need be, drop someone in front of the hospital and then leave again, but then and again, he was Nightwing when he did that. But this time, it was different. He had an obligation to stay. She most likely had no family living in Gotham, not to mention she probably had no car either…

Dick felt another surge of guilt within him. It was his entire fault that Susannah Brown was now in this hospital. If he had been quicker, perhaps she wouldn't need to be in here at all. His hands clenched around the edge of the magazine that he was holding and leant back against the stiff chair. Hopefully he would receive some news of Susannah's condition soon.

It was several hours later when he did. It turned out that Susannah had suffered a severe concussion and even though there was no evident bleeding in the brain, the doctors still wanted her to stay for at least one night for observation in the hospital.

"Would you like to see her?" the nurse asked.

Dick thought about it for a second, weighing up the pros and cons of seeing her and just leaving.

"No," he said shortly. All he had wanted was to see that she was going to be all right, and now that he knew that she was, he had no reason to stay any longer. "But thanks."

…

The first thing I heard was this incessant beeping sound, penetrating through my consciousness. I groaned, mostly in frustration, wondering why it wouldn't stop. I groaned and began to flicker my eyes open. The room that I was in was bright with light and for a moment, I thought that I was back home in Blüdhaven.

But then I realized that I wasn't in my old bedroom, but a large and sparse space. I turned my head from side to side slowly, wincing as it made my headache stronger. There were empty beds on either side of me, and that was when it finally dawned on my sluggish mind. I was in the hospital.

Oh bloody hell.

How the hell did I end up here? I thought furiously to myself. I struggled to remember how on earth I could have ended up in this place, but was completely clueless.

"Ah, Miss Brown, you're awake. I'll just page your doctor." A young nurse in scrubs came up to me, a smile on her face. "How are you feeling this morning?"

I sighed in resignation. "I have a headache," I muttered. The nurse only nodded thoughtfully.

"Well that is definitely to be expected. You did suffer a rather nasty concussion. To be honest, I thought that you were still going to be unconscious for another couple of days, but you've recovered faster than we anticipated. Now then, although you had a serious concussion, the doctors didn't find any brain bleeds, so-"

Another couple of days of being unconscious? "How long was I…" I interrupted suddenly and swallowed nervously, "unconscious?"

"Well, you were brought in on Thursday evening and we're already on Saturday morning, so roughly a day and a half?"

"I would like to discharge myself please."

The nurse sighed, and I got the feeling that she dealt with this all the time.

"Miss Brown, that really isn't advisable. You've had a serious injury and you've only just woken up." The words were taken right out of the nurse's mouth as a doctor walked into the room, a clipboard in his arms.

At first I was astounded. I had never before in my life seen a doctor who looked, well, so much like a _doctor_. I had glasses with thick black frames and wore a spotless white coat over a set of blue scrubs. He had friendly, but tired eyes and was looking over my clipboard thoughtfully.

I folded my arms. "I insist. I have things to do and I've been in here long enough," I smirked, knowing that he wouldn't be able to force me to stay.

The doctor sighed. "Very well. Selena, would you and grab the papers, please?"

The nurse, Selena, nodded her head. "I'll be back in a jiffy," she said cheerfully, walking out of the room.

"Now, Miss Brown, you don't mind if I do a final examination? It'll just be testing your vitals and other functions."

Before I even had a chance to say yes, the doctor shined a light in my eyes. I flinched away from the brightness. "That all looks good," he muttered to himself, before making a note on his clipboard.

Several tests later, he was finally finished. "Well, even though I would prefer to keep you here just in case, you are showing no signs of distress and your vitals look good." He took the papers out of Selena's waiting hands. "If you experience any dizziness, sudden fatigue, or vomiting, I want you to come right back," he said seriously. I nodded as he continued and handed the papers to me. "If you'll sign here and here." I signed the papers, handed them back to him. He gave me a small smile and promptly left.

"What's his problem?" I said to Selena.

She shrugged. "Dr. Hards has had a long shift. Now then, here are your clothes and other personal belongings," she said, handing me a plastic bag filled with my items.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Oh, and you might want to go and see that boy who brought you in. He came in this morning to ask about you, but then left again. You do know who he is right?"

Boy? What boy? Then I remembered. His name was Dick, if I recalled correctly and he… Oh god. I gulped and felt my face flush as memories of Thursday night came flooding back. How embarrassing!

"Are you all right, Miss Brown?" I squeaked as I saw a concerned Selena looking into my eyes.

I shook my head, trying to get a grip. "Uh, yeah. I, uh, do know him." Selena handed me my clothes.

"He was quite worried about you on the night he brought you in, you know. He stayed until he knew you were all right."

Huh. Well, that was unexpectedly nice of him. The only thing was… I barely knew him! He taught some defense class that I went to once, something that I had decided never to go to ever ever again.

"Well, how thoughtful of him," I said tightly, grasping and twisting my clothes in my hands.

"Indeed. Well, I'll be off now. Lots to do! I hope you feel better soon."

And just like she was gone, leaving me alone in the hospital room.

…

I breathed a lungful of fresh air as I walked away from the hospital. Oh it was good to be away from that place. The only problem was now, that I had no idea in hell where on earth I was or how I would get home. Well, there was someone who could pick me up, but I didn't really want to call her. I sighed, deciding not to get lost in the streets of Gotham again, and fished Artemis's number from my purse.

I stared at the number written on the small piece of paper and got out my phone. I was going to be owing this girl way too many favours.

"Hi Artemis, it's Susannah, the girl you helped out the other night."

"_What did you do this time?"_

"Nothing actually. I'm just a little bit lost…"

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "_Fine. I'll pick you up. Where are you?"_

"Right outside Gotham City Hospital."

"_See you soon, then."_ The line clicked as Artemis hung up.

Well, wasn't she talkative?

* * *

**Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and if you have any questions or anything, don't be afraid to message me. All ideas are extremely welcome!  
****Happy holidays and safe travels to everyone who is travelling! **

**WriteWithFeeling xx**


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